


My time with him

by amilva



Category: Orbiting Human Circus of the Air (Podcast)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-14
Updated: 2020-07-31
Packaged: 2021-03-05 00:55:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,861
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25265707
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amilva/pseuds/amilva
Summary: Stories about some people who meet the Janitor.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 6





	1. A Hypnotist

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not native English speaker, so i apologize if my grammar or misused vocabulary made you suffer. Let me know, i'll try to fix it :)  
> Story is mostly canon, so there are little spoilers.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little story about stage hypnotist and some time he spent with his greatgrandson.

**Part one, the boy**

The boy was so small, especially curled up this way, on the floor. No one at the party noticed him. No one noticed when the old man leaned back and with a deft movement covered him with someone's jacket, which was hanging on the nearby chair. For a second old man considered excusing himself to carry the boy out to bed, but they would all though that _he_ got tired and he didn't wanted to worry them. They were all having such a good time, there was no need to bother them with this unexpected development.

He found him backstage, after the show, dusty and flustered, claiming to be his greatgrandson. He could tell coming here must have cost him a lot of effort. He should just call his parents but few fading bruises and scratches boy was trying to hide, suggested, that it would be better to let him stay for a while.

It was supposed to be for one night. Maybe a few days. But it was so nice to have this little boy around. There were some many people in this house, wonderful people old man loved and whose company really enjoyed. And the boy was always hiding, always shy, like anything he would do would be wrong. So scared, like everything and everyone might hurt him. So amazed, by every single thing in this world. Boy was looking at it with this incredible wonder and patience that old man and his friends, even tho they were enjoying life greatly, somehow forgot.

People around were curious about appearance of the boy but most of them didn't question it. They knew the old man was eccentric, they just accepted this new, small company member without much explanation. They were always nice to the boy, even if the old man never urged them to be.

\- You should send him home – said one of his friends one night, greatly concerned, looking at the boy, who fall asleep at the dinner table. - You're not prepared for that, you can't take care of him, not at your aged, not in your condition.

He waved her worries with some excuses about family matter, favors, importance of spending time with family members... It worked, but he knew, she won't let it go so easily and will push him until he will take care of it.

But it was so nice, for both of them, to enjoy this moment, this escape from everyday life. They both enjoyed music together. It seemed that for the boy spending time with sound was some kind of a miracle. It was hard to tell why, but he seemed like it was not normal occurrence to him, like it was something sacred, secret, forbidden. Like every time this happened, just listening or playing music, in the open, boy seemed to be amazed at this wonderful, brand new, alien experience. He was sitting there, patiently and peacefully, like there was nothing more important in the entire world. Seeing boy entranced by record was so soothing. The old man wished he could also feel that way about things, that greatly, that strongly, experience everything like it was a first time. But even sharing those little things old man loved, seeing boys reacting to them, with such wonder, such love, like by osmosis, the old man also could experienced them anew.

They were often playing these games, when boy hid and old man was pretending, he didn't saw him. Being aware that the boy was watching was so inspirational to do this new, or sometimes quite old, tricks, just to surprise, to amaze this invisible child, to know it will make his eyes open wide, his shoulders relax a bit.

For some reason boy never wanted to go to bed. He was trying to stay awake at all time, not to miss a single second of this little escape. Old man understood this, he felt the same way. He let him hide, observe, learn, stay awake at odd hours.

He knew he shouldn't. He knew it was a terrible idea. That every day he let this happen would be harder to explain. That he needed to get him home, to school, to the real world. That if the boy gets to attached it will hurt him even more.

But because of the boy, old man felt more alive than he did in years. He found inspiration for new tricks, new acts, even if he promised his friends to slow down a bit. But he was sick for so long and it didn't really affected him that much. They agreed not to mention it, to just enjoy their time as it lasted. And he wanted to enjoy his time with the boy when it lasted.

* * *

**Part two, fireflies**

One day old man found him kneeling by the window, entranced with something. The boy didn't hear him coming in. Old man managed not to startle him and got close enough to see what the boy was looking at. There was a single firefly, crawling slowly on the glass, glowing gently on and off, soloist in front of great orchestra of night lights of Paris, blinking softly on the other side. Both of them stood there, for countless minutes, hours maybe, observing this magical spectacle. Until firefly flew off and a boy saw old mans reflection in the window. Boy get red and started apologizing, even tho he wasn't really sure for what. The old man smiled, moved by this small, magical moment they just shared. But the boy looked terrified, like he did something wrong, like if staring at firefly was something so inexplicably inappropriate, that being caught on that was incredibly bad. So old man pretended, he didn't saw that, that he just got there. He wanted to ask but felt that calming down the boy was more important. So instead he said that he came to get him, so they can go out, eat something. Boy nodded, still to anxious to look at him. So he started to talk, to take boys mind of whatever he thought just happened. Soon his eyes filled with sparkles and he seemed to get warmer and calmer.

Old man wanted to learn more about him, to help him. But every time he asked about something not related to the present seemed to startle him, like if any question was part of some exam he was terrified to fail. So old man started to talk to him more, tell him stories, let him more into his work, his world. He knew he was running out of time. He wanted to give him something that will last after they go separate ways, some courage, some wisdom, some skill. Something no one would take away from him.

He knew boy admired him and wanted to be like him. He wanted him to know how special he was. How unusual gift he possessed. There was something exceptional about how boy looked at the world. How he could notice the unexpected beauty of things that others were simply missing, point out what they were overlooking while treating everything as it was, not as it might be. Old man wanted him to be brave enough to share it. Little firefly dance with city lights stayed with him for days. It was so simple yet so beautiful. He would never notice that. He would miss little bug on a window, he would miss this spectacle which boy let him into. World needed that and boy deserved to be acknowledged for it.

Firefly gave old man inspiration for a new show. He wanted to share this wonder with others. He also decided to do something nice for the boy. He invited him to see this. To experience it, with all those people, to see how wonderful something so small can be, how much wonder and joy it could bring. How they all would love it. And when they did, he would tell them who was the author of this wonderful feeling he merely replicated for them. He was hoping that seeing all those people loving what only boy could share, only boy could do, would give him courage to be who he was. And boy reaching his full potential - there was nothing, old man could love to see more.

It was going smoothly. Everyone seemed to loved imaginary fireflies. But the only thing that mattered, was how boy would react to this. Old man saw him, in the audience. Old man might not seen him that happy and it was wonderful to know boy loved it. But something went wrong. For some reason boy run from the theatre. Old man couldn't let him, he run after him, but reaching the main entrance going through backstage took so long. The boy was so far away, old man almost screamed seeing him running across the street, without looking, chasing something, running away from something. Old man caught up with him. Put a hand on his shoulder, but didn't get to say anything. Before he catch his breath boy run away, yelling to leave him alone. He had no strength left to chase after him.

Old man was terrified. He lost the boy. How does this happen? Why does it happen? Did he misunderstood? Were fireflies really something so distressing for the boy? Or did he knew, recognized it was inspired by this moment? Did he get scared old man would tell anyone? How is he going to find him, what if he gets himself hurt? His friends didn't ask, but spread across the city to help him find the boy. They didn't. It was to late when he reached them, it was too late to find one little child in a dark, enormous city. What if they don't find him at all? How is he going to explain this to his parents? Did they knew he was there? He never asked. Did they send him here? He didn't knew. What if they were worried, as he was now if they were looking for him all this time. How he could do something like that to them? How is he going to explain that he not only didn't informed them, that the boy was staying with him all this time but also that he _lost_ him?

His friends saw how distressing it was for him, and he didn't wanted to worry them that much. He let them convince him to go home. It was already late morning. He promised he'll rest, but he just wanted to change and go look again. But when he reached the apartment something was off. He usually didn't notice if something changed in the apartment, there were too many people coming in and out, things didn't really matter that much. But it gave him a little hope. He started to look, maybe boy came back, maybe he was here, maybe he is here.

He wasn't there. But this little things, moved, taken, gave old man hope. With new strength, he went into the city to look. Boy was nowhere to be found. Old man was so tired when he get home. And there it was. This feeling again. It was late at night. The apartment was dark and silent, which didn't happen in a long time. Old man went from room to room, silently, like a thief, in his own home.

He found him.

He found him, hidden in a small, rarely used room. Old man was so glad he wanted to hug the boy right away. But he hesitated. The boy wanted him to leave him alone. What if the boy didn't need him as much as he thought? They needed to talk, but he didn't want to wake him, to scare him again. Maybe it could wait till morning.

In the morning boy wasn't there. It was the longest day old man remembered. He waited. He thought about it all. Did he let him down? At least, the boy still felt safe enough to come back home for the nights. But what has old man done that pushed the boy out of to the streets, to make him avoid old man to this extend? It was more that he could solve on his own. It was time to go back to reality, to do what responsible adult would do. He wrote to his parents. He let him go.

* * *

**Part three, a goodbye**

The boy was so small, especially curled up this way, on the floor of the pantry. Old man woke him up, gently. He apologized and said he wants to respect his will. He also said, that he wrote his parents and they will be here to take him home.

It didn't go as he expected. Boy was so sad, so upset by this, but not by the reasons old man thought him to be. Boy thought it was all his fault. That his fireflies, those imaginary little lights and what he saw in them convinced his greatgrandfather to cast him away. That admitting, even if only to himself, to have feelings for another boy was something reprehensible. Old man comforted him, as he could, pushing away his own feeling of how much he failed him. Old man was so sure that all this time he did let him know that he accept him just as he was, he loves him for who he was. How the boy could thought he would get rid of him for being himself?

He didn't wanted to let him go. He knew that boy wanted to stay, wanted to be anywhere but back home. He knew it was cruel to send him back, but it would happen eventually, and doing it now was an act of kindness. It was breaking old man's heart to send him away, especially that the only thing he could do was to talk to his parents and try to convince them to see in him what he saw. Boy never shared why he ended up in Paris, but old man felt it was not because of something good.

Old man knew it will be one of the last nights. He wanted to give boy something special. If it couldn't be confidence, if he couldn't prove to him, how special he was, at least old man could make sure boy stayed this way. If not to share it with the world at least for himself. Old man wanted him to keep this incredible gift he had, this love for all that was there, this kindness and trust in curiosity. He wanted him to remember, how to look at things.

That night, right before the show old man told the boy, he is going to hypnotize all Paris. Boy didn't knew, there was only one person he wanted to entrance this night. They went out, they laughed together and old man wanted it to stay this way, always, to live in this tiny moment of happiness, when everything was just right and the world was smiling them back.

The last night came. Old man was able to put him to bed, this one time. The boy was so small, curled up in his bed, for the first and last time in this house. And tomorrow... tomorrow he can only let him go, hoping, he gave him enough courage to find happiness in this amazing world only the boy could see.


	2. Alari

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little story about a boy from Estonia and weird kid he meet school.

**Part one, the weirdo**

Alari was new at school, new, foreign, not looking intimidating at all. But _he_ would not let anyone push him around. And they should know that. He knew how to survive. For some time he observed everyone cautiously. He needed to know who was who, who he should stick with and who should be avoided.

There was this boy at school, really weird boy. It was interesting to observe him. He was always hiding and pretending he wasn't there – was almost invisible, but definitely there. Not like anybody cared. No one ever talked to him, unless they were mocking or bullying him. He was so odd, it was like he was asking for a beating. He was not only small and acting like a terrified rabbit, with eyes wide open, breathing to fast, avoiding detection, never in the open. When he wasn't keeping to the walls and shadows, he was doing something even more ridiculous - he was a weirdo. He was ostentatiously staring at things, things that have nothing interesting to them but apparently for him, they were the most important or amusing things in the world. He was whispering to birds, bugs, mice, stuff even. Or himself. Constantly murmuring, when he thought no one was there. Or even speaking aloud, even tho no one was there. Other than that, he barely spoke. It was so infuriating. Why he couldn't make an effort to just be normal? Yeah, he was small but it doesn't mean he _needed_ to be a pushover. Even as a new one at school, Alari understood it perfectly.

He noticed also that other kids were avoiding weirdo cos he was a walking disaster. He could ruin everything he was involved in. Alari was wondering if it was weirdo's fault or maybe he was just so scared of ruining something again that his anxiety lead to yet another disaster. Outcome was the same - no one came near him if they could prevent it.

It was kind of fascinating how does weirdo survived at all, being such a soft and punchable, almost provocatively. Others usually pretended they didn't saw his oddities, like trying to understand what was going on with him was too much effort - it was easier to just not pay any attention to him. Unless they felt like laughing at him or beating someone and his weirdness was to obviously out of place not to use it as an excuse.

Alari was trying to keep his distance, in case weirdo decided to make friends with him – he got enough of his own problems to be cast away by association. But he was observing discreetly. One day he saw bullies approaching the weirdo. They were all so much bigger than him. They cornered him, pushed against schoolyards fence. And then, the strangest thing happened. Weirdo spoke. But even more peculiarly – he disappeared. And suddenly Alari found himself face to face with those bullies, all angrier than before, looking for someone to take out this anger. And Alari was there. Small, new and foreign. Perfect victim.

* * *

**Part two, a magician**

He was so mad at this weirdo, who stood him up. Was he mean at top of all that? But most importantly – how does he did that? He said something, like a spell, and disappeared. But Alari also remembered a story – weird and fascinating story, like something from a dream. He went to ask weirdo about it, but his anger took better of him. He started with “ You left me in the lurch” and next thing he knew, weirdo disappeared.

It seemed Alari lost this position he built so carefully. Until he confronted the weird boy again. Everyone was watching. He'll do something about it now or they'll think he's even weaker than this invisible kid. So he pushed the weirdo and everyone saw that. And then weirdo disappeared. But the thing was done – other kids knew that Alari wasn't a pushover.

Alari secured his position in school hierarchy and found some friends – apparently, no one knew anything about Estonia so they believed whatever he told them about his life there. But, just in case, he started to occasionally bother weirdo to make sure everyone knew what was the right order of things. And, sometimes, just to hear these weird stories. It was really odd and being left at some point was never nice but apparently, weirdo couldn't communicate otherwise. His stories were so amusing, he would definitely have interesting things to say, if they would talk, like normal people. But they didn't. Even if Alari asked him questions, weirdo always answered with some nonsense leading to a story and disappearance.

He never saw weirdo outside the school. He asked others about it, once or twice. They usually just shrugged, like asking back "does it matter?" or "why should I care?". One girl, whose mum worked with weirdo's mum, said that parents don't let him out of home, cos his dangerous to himself. That he was wandering off, chasing some things only he saw, not paying attention to where he was or what was surrendering him. That they were finding him in sort of odd places, like at the water tower, all the way to the top, just sitting there, for hours. But boys laughed at that, saying that they must have lie, cos he is too scared of his own shadow to do such a thing. Water tower was the tallest structure in their town and only some teenagers went there for a dare or to impress others. Alari attempted to ask weirdo about it, but he turned redder than he ever saw him and disappeared so suddenly, Alari wasn't sure if he even told any story. But he saw water tower from his window, ugly and menacing, now quite interesting - does he imagined it or there was little, barely moving figure, present there so often, until there was dark? And does weirdo seemed different after those days? Somehow more present, with his head slightly less down, like if he finally get a good night sleep after days of haunting nightmares?

One day, during this weird holiday they have there, the most unexpected thing happened - weirdo came up to him and invited him over. Apparently inviting someone was part of this bizarre holiday. Alari didn't wanted to celebrate this elaborated love festival. He was wondering what this invite was about - love your enemy? or like, what? did weirdo had a crush on him? Weirdo said only that it was part of the tradition was to invite a friend. And Alari wasn't sure if it will be a good idea. What if someone will see them, think they _are_ friends? It would ruin his reputation and he liked his current position. But it was so hard for the weirdo to talk him, that he figured that _he_ must have been _the_ _only_ person weirdo could consider a friend. The way weirdo said "invite a friend" was so pitiful, like possibility was so new, so strange, exciting but also really, really terrifying to him. Weirdo was so anxious about it, like if considering them being friends might cause him another great humiliation, like if asked Alari would laugh at him, mock him, hurt him for even thinking they might be friends. It was kinda sad. But Alari didn't went there because of pity. He went there, cos it was kind of fascinating how weirdos home would look like or how he'll act outside the school. So he agreed.

* * *

**Part three, a rebel**

They meet up by fire-station because Alari insisted to leave school separately, so other kids didn't saw them meeting. They went there right after last lesson, cos weirdo really insisted them to hurry. He seemed really anxious about being home on time. House was ordinary. Neat and normal, painfully and disappointingly normal. But it seemed that for the weird boy it wasn't a safe place either. He was cautious, as always, if not even more. He didn't say a word more than usual. Was it his home? He had a key and he opened the door really slowly and extra cautiously. Alari noticed that, for some reason, there were sleigh bells on them. Was it part of this holiday tradition? When they get in weirdo was looking around, tiptoeing as if they're entered bears den. He lead them straight to the basement, not even proposing glass of water or whatever. Does he have a room here? Or did he lived in this basement?

Without a word, with great caution, weirdo started to bring some boxes, hidden all over the place. It was interesting enough, but then he started to take out some things and assemble them together. So are they going to play some old nerd toy? Electric train or something? But no. As weirdo was putting together part after part it started to take form. It was a model of a city. He recognised Eiffel Tower, it was Paris. Weirdo pluged it in and all the lights went on. It was beautiful. It was the most marvellous thing Alari ever saw. Little houses were giving cozy, warm light. Little boats were floating on the Seine. He almost felt chilly, evening breeze, heard hum of thousands of voices, music from little coffee shops and theatres, felt pavement under his feet, rush and business of the streets, an atmosphere of a great, never resting city.

Weirdo was looking at his amazing tin Paris with less wonder than Alari would expect from him. He was amazed by almost everything around him, yet this toy seemed to also bring him a bit of sadness, unaddressed longing. And he told him, hesitatingly, quietly, that they could only play with it for a moment and they will need to hide it, really quickly, and then they must hide themselves. Or his stepfather will find them. And it would be horrible. He explained it, recalling some details, as if apologizing for mild inconvenience, unintentional rudeness on the part of an eccentric family member.

And Alari understood. He saw weirdo terrified all the time. Scratched and bruised, even when he was the only one who was bullying him at school. Everyone assumed it was his doing or weirdos clumsiness, but Alari didn't touched him. And he felt that weirdo needed to tell someone about it more than he wanted to show off his exceptional little city.

\- You should definitely run away.

They heard a car. They both stopped for a second. Alari convinced himself not to be scared, to pretend to be brave and took command. They took apart miraculous contraption and hide it. He needed to tell weirdo what to do even if it was his home and his toy - but he was too panicked to do anything. And then they needed to run. There was a small basement window and Alari was able to open it. Being small did have some advantages - they both fit thought it easily. But weirdo didn't come. He was standing there, paralyzed by what was there to come, what could possibly happen. Why didn't he run, fight, stood up for himself? Why did he let this happen to him? Alari was trying to make him move, convince him to follow, he almost pulled him out of the window. He didn't wanted to be here anymore, he didn't wanted either of them to be in this house anymore. All they have to do was run ahead, right now, think later. But weirdo stood there, murmuring excuses, waiting for the beating, choosing it over taking a chance to escape and avoid it, taking punishment for the now, like if it would save him later. He was such a coward. It was impossible that he ever climbed that tower. That must have been stupid rumour to make him even weirder.

There was no time to convince weirdo to move, to stop being a pushover. So Alari made a reasonable choice and just run away. He always knew what to do, how to survive. He did what he could, he did enough, he did what he was asked for. He showed up, spend some time with a weirdo, that was kind enough, friendly even. He did him this favour, didn't he?

And then, after running few blocks, Alari realised that he left him. He heard what stepfather would do to him, he knew it was true, that this small, weird kid be there alone, scared, on mercy of his monster. And he left him. He has never been more ashamed of himself.

They didn't spoke much after that. Weirdo seemed to be a little more sad, a little less there at all. Previously he was lost in everything around, now he was more lost in his own thoughts. Nothing outside his head seemed to exist. It was kinda scary to see him that way.

One day, weirdo didn't came to school. No one noticed. No one ever noticed him. Someone said that his stepfather finally killed him. They were almost _relieved_. Few days later principal came to their class. She said he run away from home and his parents are looking for him. She didn't believed it when she was telling it and they all noticed that. And she asked if someone has seen him or have any information about his whereabouts. No one did. She looked almost _relieved_ like if they even knew who the boy was would make her waste even more effort to look for him. Grownups all seemed like they didn't wanted to find him.

So he did run away. And, hopefully, far enough from this place, where they didn't even cared enough to hate him. He was brave, after all.


End file.
